Knowing Draco Malfoy
by inday soraya
Summary: When Hermione meets Draco two years after the War, she learns that he isn't who he used to be. Or maybe, she just didn't know him in the first place. EWE. Rated M for future chapters.
1. What I Know About Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for the plot of this story.

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Chapter One

**What I Know About Draco Malfoy**

_June, 2000_

I see the look of surprise on his face before it's immediately replaced by nonchalance. He gives me a curt nod.

"Granger," he says politely.

"Malfoy," I say flatly, hiding my own surprise.

Draco Malfoy enters the lift followed by several memos. He moves to stand beside me when the grilles close but keeps a decent distance between us.

I learned after the War that he and his family defected. Articles have been published about the Malfoys' true allegiance. A lot of people thought they did it to save their own hides. That's why for the past two years, they've been met by the public with scorn. I read somewhere that a restaurant manager refused to have Narcissa Malfoy and her son dine at the place. Rita Skeeter was all over it. I'm not sure if I still hate Malfoy but I sure loathe that woman.

People believed what they wanted to believe. So they had different beliefs of who the Malfoys really were. As for me, I went to Hogwarts with Malfoy for six years. And in those years, he spent his time bullying students, calling me _filthy_ and _Mudblood_.

Harry also told me how Narcissa Malfoy saved him when she claimed he was alive at the Forbidden Forest. And even in the end, Malfoy couldn't really kill Professor Dumbledore at the Astronomy Tower. When we were caught by Snatchers and brought to the Manor in the months before the Battle at Hogwarts, he hesitated about Harry's identity. Ron and I were _with_ Harry. I'm pretty sure he knew exactly that it was Harry.

"Level three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters, and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee," the female voice announces.

When the doors open, I am forced to move closer to the back wall of the lift to accommodate two men. Both are in deep conversation about an accident involving an underage muggleborn wizard who set his neighbor's head on fire.

Malfoy stays where he is. As the lift moves down, I can't help but look at the back of his head. His white-blond hair is as neat and sleek as ever. He must have noticed me staring because he turns his head slightly and looks at me. I meet his piercing eyes for a second before I look away.

What I know about Malfoy is he's a bully and was a Death Eater. But he was also young. He was brought up to believe that those with blood less pure than his were beneath him. He was surrounded by people who believed the same thing.

When we finally reach the Atrium, Malfoy manages to get out before me. When I walk out, he's already on his way to one of the fireplaces.

-o-

_September, 2000_

It's late and it looks like everyone else has gone home. I learned from Ron the day I first saw Malfoy at the Ministry that he's the newest Auror. Almost every day, we get off work at the same time. So I'm not surprised when I open the door to the hallway and see him also on his way to the lifts. We exchange nods, walk side by side but at a safe distance. He lets me get in the lift first like a gentleman. We never talk.

As to why he became an Auror is a puzzle to me. It makes sense that he'd work at the Ministry. His father used to work here after all. But times have changed. It wasn't like they were still revered for their wealth and status. Being supporters of Voldemort isn't a secret anymore either. So what I have on my hands are theories. This could all be an act. For Malfoy to be working on catching bad guys is a big, fat irony. To attain some form of redemption for the Malfoy name by doing this would be a believable explanation. But to be doing this out of pure kindness is highly unlikely.

"Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau."

I notice him lean at the side wall of the lift. Maybe he thinks he can relax since there are no other people besides us. Thinking he can relax around me is presumptuous on his part. I can feel his eyes on me then. For some reason, the hairs at the back of my neck stand up. I prove him wrong when I look straight back._Grey._It's the first time I notice that his eyes are grey.

One thing I've observed in the three months since Malfoy has worked here is he's stopped calling me _filthy _and _Mudblood._ We work in different divisions but we see quite a lot of each other being both in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. When we're in the lifts, he keeps to himself. I've never seen him talk to any of his co-workers in public. It's not like he tries to be invisible. People notice him, give him second glances. I get those too – looks of awe, respect, admiration. But I don't receive glares, contemptuous looks, judgment. I expect him to look down at his shoes to avoid such disapproving eyes. After all, he's a coward. Back in third year when Buckbeak attacked him, he cried like one. He used to hide a lot behind his father's cloak. Now he's as exposed as ever. Instead of down, he keeps his head held high and looks straight ahead.

"Level five, Department of International Magical Cooperation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law, and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats."

"So," Malfoy starts. "Why do you go home so late?"

For a second, I thought he isn't talking to me. We never talk. I am struck then when I realize that he has this look of uncertainty. Perhaps he's not as presumptuous as I thought.

"Oh, I just – there's this new law that I'm trying to pass." I try to explain. Maybe I stutter because we don't really exchange words… just insults. The uncertainty I saw earlier is replaced by something else – relief? No, I guess not presumptuous.

"Yeah? What is it about?" he asks in genuine curiosity.

This is getting weirder by the second. First he goes out of his way to start a conversation. Next he doesn't leave it at that but even gives a follow-up question. This is beyond polite for him.

"Something to do with how house-elves should have rights of their own."

Maybe that'll rile him up. I'm reminded of our second year when Harry freed Dobby and how enraged Lucius Malfoy was. House-elves were possessions, proof of their standing in society. _Dobby._

"Starting up s_pew_ again?" he says with a smirk.

This catches me off guard. I imagined him to lose that control, glower, and contend me on this or at least give me a glare and stop talking to me altogether. But he gives me something as familiar as a smirk, something he used to direct at me other than a look of pure loathing. Except… there's a hint of humor in his voice. Is he teasing me?

"It's S.P.E.W." I say quite indignantly.

I just couldn't stop myself. This is probably what he wanted. Now that I think about it, maybe he expected an entirely different treatment from me. In his mind, I could have easily been one of those people who gave him looks laced with detest. For all I know, I'm being as polite to him as he is to me. This is all unfamiliar ground between us.

I hear a soft chuckle from him. And I'm surprised yet again by how his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners when he does this. Before I know it, the grilles are opening and we're already at the Atrium.

"See you around, Granger." He leaves me there gaping at his retreating figure, wondering…

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A/N: This is my first fanfiction and it would be amazing if you could drop a review - good or bad, or just anything! This is actually the second time I'm posting this. I just added some stuff, like a back story and more thoughts on Hermione's part. Hope you like it! :)


	2. Like A Dance

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot of this story.

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Chapter Two

**Like A Dance**

_October, 2000_

"Hermione Granger! Is that really Hermione Granger?" a man asks aloud. I try to pretend I'm reading a very interesting book. I'm at Flourish and Blotts on a lovely Sunday morning (which I'm quite certain, will soon change).

As I predicted, the man doesn't hesitate to come over.

"Excuse me, Ms. Granger?" the man inquires.

I look up as if it's the first time I've noticed him. He then gives me a huge smile and offers me his hand. I take it, holding the book in my other hand and give him a polite smile in return.

"Hello Ms. Granger, I'm a big fan, big fan!" he says enthusiastically shaking my right hand with both of his hands. "Oh! Forgive me for being rude. I'm Hamish Fuller and this is my lovely wife, Layla."

A small woman gives me a small smile. But her husband doesn't stop talking.

"I've heard so much about you. We're visiting from Wales and we were really hoping to see the Trio. Oh, I'm so glad we met you. We're supposed to leave this evening and we were somewhat disappointed for leaving without seeing any of you. But this must indeed be fate, for us to bump into you here," he says holding my hand all the while.

The _Trio _is the most common name people have come up with to refer to Harry, Ron and I.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Fuller," I say as nicely as I could.

I try to slowly extract my hand from the Mr. Fuller's. He has big, sweaty hands.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. Call me Hamish," he says, beaming. "Please, tell me all about it. I've been dying to know the details of the War from you, yourself. You have yet to tell your side of the story."

This is what I've been dreading. I've refused to tell anything for two years, saying that Harry's and Ron's accounts of what happened were enough. It isn't that there is something new I could say either. I just don't like the feeling of being asked about such… personal questions. Because these people, they don't stop at technicalities. They'll try to scrub you until your red, squeeze you until there's none left to squeeze and hang you dry for everyone to see.

"I…" I start to say when someone suddenly interrupts us.

"There you are. I've been waiting for half an hour already," a smooth voice says calmly.

I turn to look at him. I don't know what this person's talking about – oh. There standing between tall stacks of books is Draco Malfoy. I'm so stunned, my mouth hang open, speechless.

"Are you coming?" he says, blond eyebrows furrowed, now sounding impatient.

I blink once, twice. Yep, it's Malfoy. I realize then what he's doing and turn back to face Mr. Fuller. He too is dumbfounded to see Malfoy here, most of all, talking to me.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Fuller. I forgot I had an appointment. It was really nice meeting you. Have a safe trip back to Wales."

He seems to snap back into the present and smiles again at me, albeit nervously. I'm guessing it's his first time to be face to face with a former Death Eater.

"Of course, of course," he says. "Well then, I hope to see you again Ms. Granger."

I smile at him and at his wife for the last time before I walk past Malfoy. When I do, I get a whiff of his perfume. He smells exactly like what you'd expect a rich person would smell like – expensive. I hear his light footsteps behind me. After a second, he sighs.

"Are you getting that," he asks me from behind.

"Oh," I stop for a moment, remembering the book I'm holding, and he halts his step just in time.

"I'll just return this quickly." I don't wait for him to reply before I hurriedly put the book back in the Magical Creatures section. When I get back to where I left him, he's gone.

When I step out of the store, I feel the sun on my face and I can almost smell the grass outside the Burrow. I've spent a few summers at the Weasleys' and they were one of the bests. I smile, feeling nostalgic all of a sudden. Then I hear a cough and I turn my head.

"Malfoy," I gasp. "I thought you already left."

"Sorry to disappoint you," he says.

"No, no. It's just that when I came back, you were gone."

"Yeah, well…"

There's an awkward silence that follows with me looking at his perfectly shiny shoes. Then I remember –

"Thank you," I blurt out. "For saving me back there."

I try to smile, a little apprehensive – not Hamish-Fuller-apprehensive but this-is-all-new-to-me-apprehensive.

"Saving's a little too big a word. But… I guess you owe me one," he says in an indiscernible tone.

I laugh at this, it's just _so_... Slytherin of him to say that. It seems for people like him, there's no concept of altruism, only a fair system of give and take.

"Okay."

This time, I give him a genuine smile.

I don't know what to make of this version of Malfoy. With him, it's like a dance between oddness and familiarity. He throws something really bizarre at me then suddenly, he's like himself again. I don't know which is the real him. Maybe it's all him. I've got a feeling, I will find out sooner or later.

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A/N: Thank you to those who followed/favorited/reviewed this fic! Please don't hesitate to comment on anything! :)


	3. A Chance To Find Goodness

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you, thank you, thank you for your reviews and everything! When I see in my email that at least one more person is following this story or someone who's reviewing just to ask for more chapters make me really happy. I just want you all to know that I don't want this to be fast, I want it to be as realistic as possible. Because in reality, even though people say there's a fine line between love and hate, you don't really fall in love with someone you hated for years overnight. So this is going to be a slow burning love (hehe). I just want it that when you read it, you'll feel that this, all of these, really happened. But I'm new at this and I might make mistakes, so tell me if it's going too fast or even too slow. Thank you guys!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Wizarding world for that matter. I just love it and Draco and Hermione so much that I made this up.

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Chapter 3

**A Chance to Find Goodness**

_October 2000_

_"Okay."_

_This time, I give him a genuine smile._

"I didn't expect you to be so agreeable, Granger," Malfoy says with one eyebrow raised. I've never been good at that. It's like Malfoy's specialty – raising eyebrows, smirking, sneering, everything relating to taunting and being sarcastic.

"I didn't expect you to help me back there either, Malfoy," I challenge him, giving him my best I-dare-you-to-dare-me look.

"Fair point," he concedes. That was fast.

"How did you know I needed help, anyway?"

"I thought the man was too loud. And you looked like you were about to throw up or something," he says. "It was a good deal, a win-win. The man shuts up. And you get to keep your puke inside, where it should stay," he adds as a matter-of-factly.

It would make sense, for Malfoy to hate vomit and anything that's unclean – including my blood. Back at Hogwarts, his vocabulary included excessive words of disgust such as filthy, foul, mud… except he hasn't called me anything aside from Granger since we met four months ago. He's even nice enough to rescue me from an overly avid fan.

"Fair point," I repeat his earlier words.

"Well, if you don't want to meet _that_ man again," he says cocking his head to the side. I follow his movement to the door to Flourish and Blotts. "You might want to consider taking this somewhere else."

I sigh.

"You're right," I say, quite frustrated that I have to leave just to avoid a person I barely know.

"See… _Agreeable_," he says the word again as I pass by him when I start to walk.

He catches up with me as we walk on the cobbled street of Diagon Alley towards the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. Every person we came across with looks at us curiously. At least they're not coming up to me, shaking my hand with both of theirs, and introducing themselves. Malfoy's nowhere near me either. He always keeps a distance of at least one meter from me while we walk. I don't know if I should be offended. Maybe there's little left of that blood prejudice after all. When we reach the brick wall, he starts talking again while I tap on the bricks which quiver under the touch of my wand.

"Why'd you want to get away from that man earlier though? I thought you'd be basking in the spotlight, reveling in the fame," he says mockingly. The hole on the wall's getting bigger.

"First of all," I look him in the eyes. "I hate the spotlight." Now the bricks have completely opened, forming an archway. We step into the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron. "Second, you'd think people would get over it after two bloody years!" Now I'm furious.

Malfoy though, gives me a smirk. He's clearly enjoying this.

"I didn't know you like to curse Granger," he says as he opens the door for me. "Please, tell me all about it."

So I do. I'm so caught up in my tirade that I don't even remember sitting down at one of the tables in the pub.

"I mean, why do they keep on rehashing the past? Digging up rubbles that have already been rebuilt? They're so hung up on the past that they're forgetting to appreciate the present. The present that we've all fought for so hard, that people even died for," I half shout. I barely register the prying eyes of those around us. My own words echo in my head… _we've all fought for so hard…_ Malfoy wasn't one of us, even at the end when they didn't really fight _with_ us. If Malfoy noticed at all, he's very good at hiding it. So I pretend that nothing's wrong and continue, but in a relatively lower voice.

"It's bad enough that the War happened. Now they worship us! Worship us for something that we only thought was the right thing to do. Asking questions about things that are better off forgotten," I finish.

"That was intense," Malfoy says after a while, even more amused. "Have you been keeping this… rage all to yourself?"

"Maybe," I say casually.

Malfoy suddenly stands up and walks to the bar. He looks rather different from normal. He has on a white shirt with no tie and black pants, his black cloak draped over the seat across from mine. All those times I've seen him at the Ministry, he's always worn black all over which makes him stand out even more with his white-blond hair just begging for attention. But today, it's even worse. With that height and slender figure, you can't just look at him without staring. Realizing that it's exactly what I've been doing, I quickly turn away. Before I know it, he's returned with two tankards of drinks.

"Here, drink this." He slides the other one toward me on the table, sees the skeptical look I give him and adds, "It's just butterbeer."

I _know_ it's just butterbeer. I pick it up and down half of it. I feel warmer, more relaxed, and also a bit more daring.

"Why are you here, Malfoy? I mean, talking to me." I finally acknowledge the big elephant in the room.

"We went to the same school." He shrugs.

"We both know that's not good enough," I say, looking straight into his eyes, reminding him that I'm not stupid.

"Maybe I want to be friends," he says seriously then.

"That's suspicious." I narrow my eyes at him.

"There's no ulterior motive here, Granger," he's says sounding like he's rolling his eyes without actually doing it. "I just thought that now that things have changed, I'm allowed to talk to you."

"No one was stopping you. And it isn't like you wanted to talk to me in school either, if talking doesn't include insulting," I tell him frankly. There's no point tip-toeing around this.

"True. But I had different… views back then."

We're silent for a few minutes, sipping our butterbeers. I don't know what to say. I can't help but think that he's playing a game here, like there's a grand scheme that will somehow lead to his victory leaving me exploited in the end.

"Look," he says looking ready to stand up. "If it bothers you that I'm talking to you then I won't. I wouldn't blame you."

He waits for me to say something.

"I'm just saying that I won't fall for any of your tricks," I finally say defiantly.

I see him relax in his seat then.

"Whatever makes you sleep at night Granger," he smirks.

Malfoy wanting to be friends sounds absurd. But I want to believe him – that there's no hidden agenda behind this. Not only him. I want to believe that people are capable of changing and that even the vilest of them have something good in them. For now, what I can give Malfoy is a chance. I hope I don't regret this.

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A/N: Soooo, what do you think about Draco and Hermione being friends? I'd like to hear from you! :)


	4. Being Friends With Draco Malfoy

A/N: Please take note of the month and year from which these events are taking place so that it doesn't surprise you that it's as if a lot of things have happened. For example, this chapter takes place in January 2001. The previous chapter was in October 2000. Anyway, enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the love I have for Dramione.

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Chapter Four

**Being Friends with Draco Malfoy**

_January, 2001_

_Matilda Jenkins, 32, was attacked two nights ago at nine in the evening on her way home to Liverpool. Jenkins, a Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, reportedly left the hospital at quarter to nine. Jenkins was supposed to Disapparate at an alley near the hospital when she was disarmed and brought to a deserted house in Ashington by Side-Along Apparition by the assailant, Travers, known to be one of the few Death Eaters still at large today._

_"She's been tortured with numerous curses, one of which is the Cruciatus Curse, for at least 24 hours," Healer Miriam Strout said on an interview yesterday. Fortunately, Jenkins did not suffer any permanent damage from the incident but will continue to stay at the hospital for an indefinite time. It is believed that Jenkins was assaulted because she was a Muggleborn._

_"We advise everyone to stay vigilant," Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt said. The Minister believes that the remaining Death Eaters are doing this just to scare the Wizarding Community. The Death Eaters deliberately wanted to let everyone know who exactly they were targeting when they purposely left Jenkins alive in front of the Ministry of Magic the next day._

_When asked if You-Know-Who may be behind this, Auror Harry Potter said, "Voldemort is gone. Death Eaters or anyone for that matter cannot revive him." As of the moment, every Auror from the Ministry of Magic is pursuing the last of the Death Eaters. Meanwhile, Travers was sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss this –_

"Hermione? Are you listening?" Harry says.

I look up from the Daily Prophet I'm reading.

"I'm telling you, you've got to stop going home so late at night. It's dangerous," he tells me for the nth time since we met for lunch.

"I can perfectly defend myself, Harry." It comes out sounding irritable.

We're at a restaurant just a block away from the Ministry. It's become a habit for us to eat at Muggle places where almost no one recognizes us. I guess that's what Harry and I share – our common aversion to fame. Ron, on the other hand, enjoys it a little more than us.

Harry sighs and says, "I don't doubt that. But it wouldn't hurt to be more careful."

It's weird that Harry's saying this when I was the one who always told him not to go on finding trouble, which is ironically what his job is right now. For me, it isn't really about being able to take on Death Eaters or even about being brave. I'm just done running away. I don't want to stop living just because some people may be after me.

"Okay, okay," I finally say only for him to drop it.

Our order comes and I hide the paper quickly under the table. We don't talk about it for the rest of the meal.

-o-

"I'll go ahead, Hermione. You really should go home. It's getting late," Wendy Hurst says from the door. She's the sweetest person I know here. Wendy has auburn, wavy hair with pretty face covered with freckles. She's worked in the Division of Wizengamot Administration Services a year after I did and we've been friends ever since.

"I will. I'm just finishing this then I'm off. Good night, Wendy," I tell her with a smile.

"Okay. Good night," she waves goodbye before leaving.

I realize that I'm the only one left in the office. Although our work in the Division is mostly clerical, I've been appealing to the Minister that our responsibilities extend to actually making the laws. Since we deal with court cases, we have knowledge and a vast record of those that seem too ambiguous to be given clear and just verdicts. I'm not saying I don't trust the Wizengamot members to be fair. In fact, I've always respected them. No one simply just becomes a member of the Wizengamot. Everyone's at least 85 years old in there. These are people who have experienced four times my lifetime and two Wizarding Wars. But I also recognize human's susceptibility to impartiality and bias, which reinforces my advocacy to a more developed Wizarding Law.

"Still here, Granger?" I jump in my seat at Malfoy's voice.

"You startled me," I say with my hand over my chest. "What are you doing here?"

"We've been getting off work at the same time so I was thinking that we should leave together," he says nonchalantly. He's already invited himself in my room, standing in the middle of it, looking pristine in his black robes as ever.

I stare at him. These days I've become used to Malfoy's straight to the point statements. He doesn't ask me whether I want coffee. Instead, he hands it to me and just tells me to drink it. He also seems to think that the best way to be _friends _– he insists on saying that we are – with me is to be honest with me. Once while we were walking together towards the fireplaces in the Atrium, he said, "I hate the Weasel." I've learned to ignore all Ron-related things he says just as I disregard all Malfoy-related rants Ron sprouts. Besides having their cubicles close to each other's, they've been forced to work closely together ever since Malfoy joined the Ministry.

"I still have a lot to do," I sigh. "You go on ahead."

"I can wait," he says as he gracefully sits down on the chair in front of my desk, crossing his legs.

I eye him. He's already getting comfortable as he grabs the Witch Weekly magazine Wendy must have left on my table earlier and opens it.

"Suit yourself."

For an hour, I review the case for tomorrow while Malfoy just sits there doing practically nothing after he was done with Witch Weekly in 15 minutes. He doesn't bother me and I'm thankful for the peace. This is one more thing I discovered about Malfoy – he's learned how to stay quiet when he needs to. So far, it's the only trait I can say that I truly like about him, something he has in common with Harry. Ron never seemed to master it.

When I finally look up from all the papers strewn across my desk, Malfoy's already standing. He waits for me at the door while I organize the papers into neat stacks.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," I say as we walk on our way to the lifts.

"I'm not doing anything anyway," he says, sounding bored.

"Aren't the Aurors busy tracking down Death Eaters?"

"We haven't really had clear leads yet," he explains.

"Oh." I thought so. Even without a leader like Voldemort, Death Eaters aren't that stupid.

"Where do you live Granger?" Malfoy suddenly asks.

"Why do you ask?" Malfoy hasn't really been a threat but I'm not sure where his loyalty truly lies yet.

"I'm taking you home," he says it like it's the most obvious answer.

-o-

That night, I didn't tell Malfoy where I live. But he walked with me to the alley where I Disapparated home. The following night, he waited for me again. On the third night, when he came into my office, I was already preparing to leave. Two nights later, I finally let him take me home.


	5. The Night I Let Draco Malfoy Take Me Hom

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter franchise. I'm just a big Dramione fan.

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Chapter Five

**The Night I Let Draco Malfoy Take Me Home**

_January, 2001_

The minute hand of the clock above the door points to twelve. It's 8 PM. I start to clear my desk at the office. I'm still holding a folder when Malfoy saunters in.

"Ready?" he says then frowning at the copy of Quibbler on my table.

"Yeah." I place the folder inside the top drawer before getting my bag.

Every night, Malfoy has been walking me all the way to the alley where I usually Disapparate home. On the second night, I told him that he really doesn't have to. "We get off work at the same time anyway," he said to me then. I let it go because I didn't want to argue.

"Really Malfoy, why do you keep on waiting for me?" I ask him again when we get out of the Ministry. "And don't give me the same lame excuse."

He seems to think about it then says, "Maybe I like the company."

"Don't you have a girlfriend or something?"

"I do."

Oh. I didn't know what answer I was expecting. I've never really given much thought about Malfoy's personal life. So it just occurs to me that his world doesn't just revolve around work at the Ministry or trying to be friends with me.

"Do I know her?"

"Her name's Astoria Greengrass."

Greengrass… She was in our year. I don't really remember her face but I'm pretty sure she's one of Parkinson's gang.

"She's Daphne's younger sister," he says when I seem to be lost in thought.

"Oh."

It's so predictable – for Malfoy to be dating someone from his own circle. With very few pureblood families left, it's not a surprise that most of them are marrying each other. I remember seeing Malfoy's name on the Black family tree for the first time and wondering why he's so proud of something I just couldn't see… Malfoy stops in his tracks.

"Well, go on then," he says. Then I realize that we're already at the Apparition point.

I look up at Malfoy but his eyes are roaming the place. He always does this when we're out.

"Actually, I'm famished. Do you want to have dinner? I mean, unless–"

"Sure," he says before I finish my sentence.

"O-kay. I know a good place. I can take you Side-Along." The last part comes out as a question. I hesitantly offer him my arm. Although we've seen a lot of each other at the Ministry – one coincidental time over coffee, sometimes when he comes to my room unannounced just to escape Ron and most of the time when we just happen to arrive or leave work at the same time – I still don't know what he thinks of voluntarily touching a Muggleborn. In all those times, we've never really had an excuse for physical contact. Sure we brush arms when the lifts are too packed but never like this when either of us has the choice to prevent it. Yet Malfoy holds my arm without second thought.

I Apparate us somewhere near Alfredo's, an Italian restaurant that I came across two weeks ago while I was walking in the neighborhood. Malfoy lets go of me after we've had our bearings. We then walk a small distance to the place.

"I forgot to tell you, it's a Muggle restaurant," I tell Malfoy when we enter. There are rows of red booths on one side of the wall while chairs and tables litter the floor. I lead us to the farthest booth where no one can overhear us.

"Yeah?"

I'm about to react but just then, a waitress comes to get our orders. She has bright red hair and looks young like in her early 20s.

"What would you want?" she asks with her hand hovering on a notepad she's holding, looking bored. The servers here tend to look like that. But the food's great so I don't mind them.

"I'd like a Carbonara please. And iced tea," I tell the waitress. She writes my order down before turning to Malfoy.

"I'll have what she's having," he says monotonously.

I wait for the waitress to get out of earshot before I speak again.

"Is that it? Are you really telling me that you are not repulsed by Muggles now?" I ask disbelievingly.

"I thought you'd figured that out by now Granger," he says, deadpan serious.

I can practically see my face turn red from embarrassment. How am I supposed to know what he's thinking? For all I know, I'm the only person he talks to outside of work that isn't a Pureblood.

"You really can't blame me." I immediately regret it the moment the words come out of my mouth. Although Malfoy's face remains nonchalant, I can see the tension in his jaw.

"I'm sorry, that was low."

"You don't have to apologize. You had every right to say that," Malfoy says flatly.

I suppose I did. He's said all the bad things about me at school and called me awful names. But it doesn't give me an excuse to do the same to him when he's clearly changed from being that sodding prat.

We're both silent even after the red-haired waitress serves us our food.

"The food's really good here," I say after a while, in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

"Please, don't stop at my expense Granger," Malfoy says dryly as he puts down his fork. "Go on."

"I'm just really curious–," I start.

"You're always curious," he interrupts. I ignore him. At least he sounds more like himself again.

"What exactly changed your mind? About Muggleborns and Muggles I mean," I finish.

He considers my question for a second before answering.

"There was a point when I just realized that none of it mattered."

I wait for him to elaborate but he doesn't. I don't press him for the same reason that I hate being forced to divulge about personal things I want to keep private.

"So why did you become an Auror?" I ask, veering away from the previous topic. Besides, I've been wondering about this for a while. And Malfoy seems to appreciate the subject change.

"I just thought I'm a pretty decent dueler so why not do something I'm already good at," he says as a matter-of-factly. _Arrogant git._ "Unlike Potter, I'm not noble."

"Ha! You complimented Harry just now," I tell him.

"Being noble can be two things Granger – it's either you're saintly or just plain stupid. Neither one's a good thing."

"You are so cynical," I scoff at him.

"I'm not. You Gryffindors are just too optimistic for your own good."

And so for the rest of the meal, we argued on which House is better – Gryffindor or Slytherin. Even after graduating from Hogwarts, its students never really get over the House prejudice. When we get out of the restaurant, we decide to drop it and talk more about work.

We're walking along Churchill Street and when we're in front of a three-storey green building, I stop. So does Malfoy.

"This is me," I say.

He raises his eyebrow.

"I didn't realize we were walking to your place."

"It was near the restaurant," I say, shrugging.

"Well–"

Suddenly, we hear a scuffing sound. Malfoy stands still and looks at something behind me. His eyes widen.

"Damn it," he curses under his breath.

"Wha–?" I say and turn when Malfoy swiftly moves in front of me and whips out his wand while his left arm stretches out protectively. Over Malfoy's shoulder, I can see a face – Fenrir Greyback's. He looks straight at me with venomous eyes. Then his face spreads into a wild grin, his pointed teeth showing.

"Hello Mudblood."

* * *

A/N: I just want to say thank you to all those who are following this story! Tell me what you guys think :)


	6. Close Off

Chapter Six

**Close Off**

_January, 2001_

_"Hello Mudblood,"_ Greyback rasps.

I instantly feel cold all over, like a bucket of ice-cold water was poured over my head. I thought Greyback was dead. I saw him brought down by Ron and Neville. If anyone can make my hairs stand on end other than Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange, it's Fenrir Greyback. He's a monster who preys on innocent lives of people.

"And what do we have here? Draco Malfoy?" he says as his eyes rest on Malfoy. I feel Malfoy tense up at the mention of his name.

"Blood traitor," another man on Greyback's right snarls. Travers.

I hold my wand tightly in front of me. There are three of them, including a man I don't recognize. Three on two. If it isn't for Greyback, I'm sure Malfoy and I can take them down. We need back up.

"Expelliarmus," I shout at the unfamiliar man from behind Malfoy. He avoids the spell, distracting Greyback and Travers for a second.

"Impedimenta," Malfoy yells at Greyback who also ducks from the spell.

I take this moment to produce a Patronus to send for someone. After a minute of Malfoy and I exchanging hexes with the Death Eaters, Harry appears to my left. He sees me then the Death Eaters and dives into action immediately.

Malfoy's fighting both Travers and the man while Harry and I deal with Greyback.

"Harry Potter," Greyback says, his grin getting impossibly wider.

"Why are you still alive?" Harry asks while we circle Greyback.

"You know it isn't easy to kill me," Greyback rasps just as he throws a hex at Harry. Harry blocks it easily and the three of us are locked in a duel. I don't know how long we exchange spells until I hear a groan followed by a thud from behind. It looks like Malfoy managed to take care of the other two. Then Harry finally hit Greyback, sending him flying three meters away. Before Harry could immobilize him, he Disapparates.

"Damn," Harry says breathlessly. "You alright?"

"Yeah," I say in answer.

"Someone has to stay here with you. I'll call Ron," he says seriously.

"I'll stay with her," Malfoy interjects.

Harry gives him a curious look before looking at me. I nod to tell him it's okay. He looks doubtful but seems to accept it.

"You'll have to file a report on this first thing in the morning," he says to Malfoy.

"Got it," Malfoy responds easily. That's strange.

Harry then hugs me and whispers, "We'll talk about this."

He must trust Malfoy enough to leave him with me. With the nature of their work, I guess trusting each other is what Aurors have to do when they expect to fight together.

"Okay," I tell him. I smile at him when he releases me. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course I'd come for you," he says, his eyes softening with concern. He squeezes my shoulder for a second before directing his wand at both Travers and the other man whom Malfoy immobilized and tied. He turns to face Malfoy and adds, "Make sure she's safe," before he Disapparates with the Death Eaters in tow.

"Since when do you take orders from Harry?" I say to Malfoy.

"What would you have done if Potter and I weren't here?" Malfoy says instead of answering my question. He doesn't sound mad but he sure doesn't look happy either. I look at him, really look at him and see that he has a cut on his cheek while his hair looks disheveled.

"You need to get patched up," I gesture to his face.

"I'm serious Granger. You could have been caught. Worse, you could have been killed!" It's the first time he's lost control over his cool demeanor.

"Is this why you insisted on taking me home?" It finally dawns on me how this all started when that article about the attack of a Muggleborn Healer was released.

"I had to make sure you were safe," he says gravely. That confirms it.

"What is it to you Malfoy?" I narrow my eyes at him.

"It's my job Granger," he says.

"What, were you ordered to follow me around?"

"No."

"Then what is it?" I'm tired. I don't have any more energy for this.

"I already told you," Malfoy continues to say.

"Well if you finally decide to tell me the truth, I'll be upstairs." I'm getting annoyed.

"I'll keep watch."

I sigh. I turn to the direction of the door to my building and start walking. It seems that I'm not getting anything from Malfoy tonight. He's too proud to show vulnerability in front of others that any sign that indicates he'll be exposed, he desperately tries to fence himself in with these walls he builds around him. Well, I don't know how long I can stand this. I'm not very good at waiting for answers – I find them.

Malfoy follows me wordlessly. When he doesn't go in even after I leave the door open for him, I begrudgingly come back.

"Don't be silly Malfoy. People will think you're a stalker," I say with the door still open.

He looks at me then enters passing by me. I close the door, locking it with magic. When I turn, Malfoy's standing at the opening of the hallway. I feel a lot better then, seeing him so unsure of himself. He looks more lost here than he ever was in that Muggle restaurant earlier. When I brush past him, I say, "You can sleep on the sofa."

I go straight to my room to get a pillow and blankets for him. When I come back to the small living room, I place them at the edge of the sofa. He's still standing, now in front of the fireplace, looking at the various pictures displayed on the mantle. He's staring at the one with me, Harry and Ron in our Hogwarts uniforms. It was a picture taken by Colin in third year. After he died, his father gave it to Harry as a thank you for giving honor to Colin's death by saving us all. Harry must have seen how I wanted it because he thought I should keep it.

I must look like I'm about to cry because when I look up, Malfoy gives me a concerned look.

"Granger," he says.

"This isn't about the Death Eaters."

Then I leave without another word. Getting sentimental in front of Malfoy is exactly what I don't need right now. Remembering Colin makes me remember all the others who died in the War, some of them I held more dearly in my heart. The encounter with the Death Eaters today didn't scare me. It angered – angers – me because they remind me of what evil is left from that horrible past.

-o-

The next morning, I wake up feeling foggy from last night's events. When I enter the living room, Malfoy is gone. I find a note on my table instead.

_I left to change at the Manor. See you at work._

_-DM_

Inexplicably, I feel a sudden surge of comfort reading those last words. I guess I'll see Malfoy at work.

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much for following and reviewing this story! All of you encourages me to write more. I can't believe I'm posting a chapter per week despite all the requirements I have at school. That's how you inspire me. So thank you.

When I started this, I didn't know I'd have to write a little action scene. What did you think of it? Was the action scene too short? Anyway, feel free to drop your reviews :)


	7. This Kind of Love and Happiness

Chapter Seven

**This Kind of Love and Happiness**

_February, 2001_

I didn't like the idea of Aurors guarding outside my apartment. First, my Muggle neighbors might get suspicious and call the Muggle authority. And second, I don't like having other people risking their lives for me. So when Harry insisted to have Aurors posted at my place, I adamantly refused. In the end, we made a deal. Clearly my apartment's location has been compromised so I agreed to Harry's offer to stay at his place for the mean time – no Aurors.

I'm at the sofa going through different channels on the television when I hear a familiar voice.

"Harry?"

I turn the television off and crouch by the fireplace.

"Ginny," I say, my face breaking out in a huge smile.

Ginny's face is sitting in the fire. She still looks as fiery, now more than ever as the flames lick at her. I haven't talked to her in weeks with her tight Quidditch practice schedule and my, well, work. After she joined the Holyhead Harpies as their newest Chaser a year ago and especially now with the upcoming match against the Tornados in April, she barely has time to hang out with us.

"Hermione! How are you? I heard about what happened," Ginny says worriedly.

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure her, "How are _you_? I haven't seen you in forever!"

"Oh I'm so exhausted. Gwenog was angry today because Aretha couldn't catch the Snitch even after five hours. We haven't had a break since two. Where's Harry?"

Harry and Ginny have been together for two years. They tried dating secretly at first but were eventually found out when someone caught them getting cozy at a party. As soon as the whole Wizarding Community knew about it, Ginny has received criticisms from jealous witches and even graced the cover of Witch Weekly for that month.

"He's not yet here but he should be home by now," I tell her.

"It's okay. I was just trying my luck. But I'm really glad to see you. You have lots of things to tell me," she says quite seriously.

"Really, it wasn't that bad… except for the part where Greyback got away," I say.

"Silly, I don't mean _that. _Tell me everything about you and Malfoy! Blimey, I didn't believe what I was hearing when Harry told me you were with Malfoy when it happened."

"Malfoy and I are just friends," I tell Ginny.

"How did that happen? Did he apologize or something," Ginny asks me incredulously.

"No, nothing like that. We just happen to see each other a lot at work then he started talking to me. That's it," I explain.

"Unng," Ginny cringes, "I can't imagine Malfoy being friendly."

I chuckle at Ginny. She's always hated Malfoy's pompousness and arrogance.

"You really won't believe it. I brought him to a Muggle restaurant and he didn't even flinch!"

"That's bollocks! He hates anything that doesn't say 'Pureblood' on it," she exclaims.

That's when I decide to tell Ginny. She might hate Malfoy, but maybe not as strongly as the rivalry between Malfoy and Ron and Harry goes.

"Ginny, I need to tell you something I haven't told anyone else," I start.

"Ooooh, I love secrets," she croons.

"Remember that Muggleborn Healer who got attacked?" I say, when she nods, I continue, "Well, on the day when that news got out, Malfoy insisted to take me home. He started waiting for me and going with me until I Apparated home every night. That's why we were together when the Death Eaters ambushed us. I didn't put two and two together until then. I confronted him about it and he sort of admitted it."

"So he's protecting you from Death Eaters now?" she says in shock.

"Looks like it. But I don't know what reason he has. We really aren't that close. I haven't even decided yet if I've forgiven him for everything."

"It's far-fetched for Malfoy, but maybe he's trying to make it up to you? I mean, if word got out that you're friends with him, the rest of the world might just believe he's changed."

"I don't know about his intentions but… When he got angry at me, asking me what would I have done if Harry and he weren't there, he was acting like what a normal worried friend would do," I say recounting that last bit.

We both hear a movement and Ginny turns her head to look at something.

"Ginny, it's late. We have early practice tomorrow." I hear Gwenog's muffled voice.

"Sorry," Ginny whispers. She faces me again and says, "That's my cue. Keep me posted about this, okay? For the mean time, don't overthink. Just, see what Malfoy does next."

"Okay. I'm glad we had this talk. I really did miss you," I tell her.

"You're only realizing this now?" she says grinning, "Me too. Good night, Hermione. Please tell Harry I called?"

"Sure. Good night."

There's a _pop _and Ginny's face is gone. Only the dancing fire and its cackling sound are left. Then I hear the door click. I'm still sitting by the hearth when Harry comes in.

"Hey. You just missed Ginny. She called," I tell him.

"Yeah? How is she?" he says as he puts down his things and takes off his cloak.

"I think she's enjoying herself," I say, smiling.

Ginny sure was tired but she had a glow that tells me she loves what she's doing. It's like she's even excited about waking up early for more practice. I wish I could say the same about my work.

"I think so too... So do you think it isn't the right time to ask her to marry me?" Harry blurts out, desperately looking at me.

"Oh, Harry," I gasp, covering my mouth with both of my hands.

"I know we're too young, but it's perfectly normal for wizards. My parents married _right_ after graduation. I just know that I want to be with her more," he says in one breath.

"I'm happy for you," I say, standing up to hug him.

"You don't think it's stupid," Harry asks when I finally release him and sits down on the sofa I vacated earlier, "And maybe selfish?"

"Of course not," I say, also sitting beside him and facing him, "I think it's staggering that someone can love another person so much that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. You of all people deserve this kind of love and happiness."

"Thank you Hermione. Your approval means a lot to me," he says sincerely.

And it matters to me too because Harry's like a brother to me. He's had enough tragedy in a lifetime. It's high time that he get his happy ending.

"I think we should celebrate. I'll cook dinner for you," I declare, suddenly standing up.

Harry laughs. I've never been good at cooking. Once I tried making lasagna, Harry and Ron were my taste-testers. Harry tried gulping it down with water, said it was good with a straight face. Ron, on the other hand, choked on his food and sprouted, "Bloody hell, this is awful." After that, Harry seconded immediately, "It was really bad. I'm sorry Hermione." That's the kind of person Harry is. In a bigger sense, even when he's already having a hard time, he'll try to lie just to protect me.

"I'm kidding. I'll order pizza," I say, laughing too while I walk to the phone.

oOo

Two years after that night, I found a different but all the same version of that kind of love and happiness.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much for following this story, I hope I don't let you down :)


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